


The Dapper Highwayman

by MotherGoddamn



Series: The Dapper Highwayman [1]
Category: Glee, klaine - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-30
Updated: 2012-06-30
Packaged: 2017-11-08 21:26:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/447736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotherGoddamn/pseuds/MotherGoddamn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heading back from college for the summer, Kurt decides to pick up a hitchhiker. And gets a lot more than a travelling companion</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dapper Highwayman

There was a slight possibility that Kurt had made an error in judgment.

He should have flown back to Lima from college. He should have listened to his father.

_"Look, I was never happy about you driving back in the first place. But at least Finn was going to be with you. I don't like the thought of you doing it alone. It’s a hell of drive, kiddo."_

_"Finn had a fight with Rachel, Dad. He wanted to see her sooner. I'm twenty-one! I'll be fine!"_

_"I don't know why you are driving anyway. Just because of one time with a little bit of turbulence."_

_"It wasn't just a little bit of turbulence, Dad! It was like a movie starring Steven Seagal." Kurt had argued. "I could have died! Besides this will be fun. Adventurous.”_

_"You're not actually the adventurous type, son," his father had chuckled. “Just you be careful, okay. Get here in one piece.”_

And here he was, driving in the pelting rain, fighting boredom and trying not yawn up all the oxygen in the car. Stifling yet another, he fidgeted with the dial. Whoever had invented talk radio must have just hated those with a sense of hearing. Giving up, he let a country music station win. He wasn't particularly a gracious loser but it was either that or drive into a ditch. 

Why did everything look the same out here? He thought he was going to go blind out of sheer boredom. He hadn’t even seen any other vehicles in over a hour. Which is why he was shocked to see the hitcher on the side of the road.

"What on Earth?" he said out loud, seeing the figure in the distance. A young man held down by a large duffel bag with one hopeful thumb out towards the road. He'd catch his death in this weather!

Kurt bit his lip. He couldn't pick him up. That was insane, right? What if he had escaped from a mental institute and was roaming over the country making people put lotions in baskets?

No.

Like. Seriously. He _couldn't._

But he was going to die out here! Which in a way made _Kurt_ the murderer, and there were no other cars and it was so wet and... Oh, he'd driven past him.

Well, he couldn't have _really_ picked him up, and if he had, he could have a fish hook in his back by now. Wes Craven had a lot to answer for. Pretty much everyone who passed the boy must be thinking the same thing, _if_ anyone passed him, that was the stereotype after all. Kurt began to feel guilty for the guy. He was going to be here all night at this rate.

 _"You're not actually the adventurous type, son."_ His Dad's voice said in his mind and without thinking about it, his foot hit the brakes. Kurt would show _him_ adventurous. He pulled the car into reverse, stopping once he saw the hitcher running to the door. Leaning across the car, Kurt wound down the passenger window.

"Hey," he shouted out, struggling to be heard over the wind. "Where are you heading?"

"Grangeville?" The hitcher called back. 

"That's in my direction!" Kurt said, "The door's open, get in!" 

The boy gave him a big grin and pulled open the door, climbing in. "Oh, my God. I didn't think anyone was going to stop!" he said, holding up the duffel. "Shall I just throw this in the back?" 

"No!" Kurt screeched as the man began to shove it between the two seats. "You can't drop that onto a Vivienne Westwood!" 

The hitcher blinked. Once. Twice. And then looked onto the backseat. "Oh! Your coat? I see!"

Kurt blushed on realizing that the man was cute. Insane cute. And Kurt had just yelled at him like a mentalist. Brilliant start. Perfect. "It's okay, it's okay. I'll move it." He leaned into the back and pushed the jacket over gently. "There, you can put it in now."

"Are you sure it's okay on the seat? It's pretty wet."

He must think that Kurt was the most anal retentive person in the world. Great. "No, go ahead. It's a rental car." That sounded more breezy and carefree in his head. Out loud it sounded like _"well as long as it's not my stuff, feel free to burn it."_

"Thanks," he called pushing the bag into the back. Being careful not to be anywhere near the coat, Kurt noticed. "And thanks for stopping. Really. It's very kind of you."

"Pah, nah. Ah." Okay, what the hell was that? It had just fallen out of his mouth. You'd think he'd never had a cute boy in his car before.

Well, it _had_ been awhile. And they weren't usually wet.

"Blaine, by the way," the boy offered, pushing out his hand. 

"Kurt." He gave it a shake back and had to swallow the urge to say _"enchante"_. It was the tiredness. He could swear he'd left college with a brain. "So, why are you hitching?"

"Oh, I had an argument with my friend. She threw me out about a hour ago." He pulled a cell out of his pocket. "And this is dead."

“She kicked you out and left you on the road? That must have been some argument.”

“Yeah, well. I maintain I was right.” Blaine gave a shake of his head. “She has a tendency to overreact. But thank God for you! I’d have frozen to death if I’d been out there any longer.”

“Really, it’s no problem.” Kurt grinned, as his head chanted. _Cute boy in my car, cute boy in my car._

This trip was definitely looking up.

*

Kurt and Blaine had _a lot_ in common. After half an hour of Blaine's company, he was no longer bored. Although, instead of driving into a ditch because he'd fallen asleep, he was now at risk of doing it from the over studying of Blaine's jaw line. God, he wanted to nip it with his teeth. No, what was he thinking? Blaine was clearly straight. Friend indeed. Friends don't throw you out of cars during storms. Jealous lovers do.

"Do you mind if I put the radio on?" Kurt asked, if only to distract him from temptations to miss the gearstick.

"Er, yeah. Okay." Blaine's smile faltered and he looked strangely worried. "I'll do it."

Blaine's flicking through the stations brought no new joy. Talk, news, country, talk...

_...travelling by foot, armed and extremely dangerous. Wanted in connection with..._

"Wait," Kurt said. "Oh, my God! Go back to that one!"

"What? Really?" Blaine frowned, turning the dial back. “It’s just boring news.”

_... who the press have coined The Dapper Highwayman, police advise that no one should pick up any..."_

"No, the next one," Kurt waved with his finger. "Yeah! That one." He grinned as Belinda Carlisle filled the car. "I _love_ this song!"

"Me, too!" Blaine agreed brightening up quickly. "This is an amazing station. I love this station. Let's keep it on this station."

Kurt tried to hide what he was sure was a very stupid looking grin. Blaine liked this song, too! Could he be more perfect?

Oh, yeah. The straight thing. 

"What's in Grangeville then?" Kurt asked. "Family?"

"My Grandmother. There's just us now. I like to visit in the summer, you know. Be there for her."

Kurt sighed in appreciation. Loudly. "Er, that's sweet of you."

Blaine gave a humble shrug. "So, why are you driving to Ohio? Quite the trek. Why not fly?"

"Well," Kurt grimaced, "I don't like flying. Hate in fact. I know that doesn't sound very... cool, but I thought instead of getting myself into a fit of nerves I could just drive. That it might be exciting, fun you know?"

"But travelling these roads at night. Kind of dangerous, isn't it? Especially alone."

"Well, I was supposed to be travelling with Finn but he went ahead without me and flew."

"Finn? Is he your boyfriend?"

"No! I mean, no. Finn is my brother. We're at the same college. Although, I used to have this _huge, huge_ crush on him."

Blaine's eyes widened in shock.

"Oh! Not in a _Flowers in the Attic_ kind of way! He's my step-brother. My father and his mother got married when we were in high school," Kurt explained. "Step-brother."

"Right! Wow. For a minute there..." Blaine shrugged nonchalantly. "So... _Is_ there a boyfriend? Hopefully one not related?"

"No," Kurt answered too quickly. Blushing he tried again. "I mean not at the moment, there isn't."

"Hard to believe," Blaine whispered, looking out the window, with a small smile playing on his lips

Oh, good God. Was cute boy in my car flirting with him? Yes! Yes! He needed to pull over and do high kicks! Aiming for relaxed Kurt gave an _"it is what it is"_ shrug.

"Do... you have a boyfriend?" he asked back. Staring straight at the road ahead, hoping Blaine wouldn't see his reddening ears in the dimming light. 

"Ditto. No one at the moment."

He hadn't corrected the gender. Yes! High kicks all round.

"Kurt, would we be okay to stop at that gas station? I just want to run in and get some things."

"Sure, sure." He indicated off and pulled in. "I could do with some gas, actually."

"Oh, let me. You've been so nice. You stay out here and fill this up. I'll get the gas and some supplies, okay?"

"No, it's fine. I couldn't..."

"Yet you will! Honestly, Kurt. I really owe you!" He leaned into the back retrieving the duffel bag. "I'll be right back."

Kurt was so giddy he could hardly stand it. It really _had_ been awhile. Even filling up the car was flooding him full of filthy thoughts. He gave his hair a quick scan in the side mirror. Passable. But why had he dressed for comfort? Would Blaine notice if he was wearing an entire different outfit when he got back in the car? 

Tank filled, he slipped back into his seat and tapped at his lip absently. Grangeville wasn't that far now. They had a few hours at best. Would it be too weird to ask Blaine out? Was he even interested? When it came to signals Kurt wasn't the most fluent of readers. 

Hearing the slam of the station door, Kurt looked up to see Blaine running at him almost full pelt. He practically ran through the door into the car.

"Are you okay?" Kurt asked, concerned. "You look flushed?"

"Oh, I was just scared about getting caught in the rain again. My hair's wild enough."

It was. Kurt wanted to dive into it.

"I got you some magazines by the way," Blaine said as they drove away. The bag was open on his lap. " _Tatler, Vogue._ Erm, _Men's Health?"_

"Oh, that’s so sweet! You didn't need to do that!" Kurt exclaimed feeling touched. He gave a start on seeing the bag's overflowing contents. "Wow, you look like you cleared the store!"

"Oh, well. The prices. They were practically giving them away."

"Are those tampons?"

"Oh, those are... presents. For my Gran."

"You got tampons for your Grandmother as a gift?" Kurt asked. "Wait, your Grandmother still menstruates?

"No, erm. They're for nostalgia."

Kurt wasn't too sure about asking about that date now. Then again, maybe Blaine was just eccentric. He could live with that. He could just see it now. They'd attend parties together and Blaine would say something strange and endearing and then Kurt would roll his eyes and say _"Oh, Blaine!"_ in that way and they'd laugh and sneak upstairs looking for a spare bed and...

"Kurt?" Blaine asked. "You okay?"

"Sorry, wool gathering." Kurt looked down between Blaine's feet. "Hey, you've dropped a couple of twenties there!"

"What? Oh! Thanks!" Blaine scooped them up, turning round and shoving them into the bag. "Oh, hey, Kurt, I'm really glad you picked me up." And then Blaine smiled. A smile different to any smile he'd shared before. It made Kurt want to melt into the floor and puddle around his feet.

"Oh, pft. Nah pah." Jesus! What was wrong with him? His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. "I mean. Don't worry about it."

_Ask him out, ask him out, ask him out._

Okay, he'd ask him out in _ten_ minutes. Ten.

*

"Can we just stop here, please?" Blaine asked, one hour later. "I just need to use the restroom."

Bad thoughts rammed into Kurt's mind. And they were all George Michael's fault.

"Absolutely!" Kurt took the corner into the station a little too fast. He really needed to start playing it cooler. But his window to ask was drawing to a close. And every time he opened his mouth, lunacy would vomit out. College was supposed to make you _better_ at this stuff. And what if Blaine said no? How awkward would be the rest of the drive? It was at least another hour to Grangeville.

"Do you want anything from inside?” Blaine asked. “I may get some gum."

"Oh, could you please get me some Evian?" Kurt began to root out his wallet but Blaine held up a hand.

"Let me, please." He grabbed the bag from the back. "I'll just be a minute."

Kurt watched him walking towards the store, mentally berating himself. Right, that was it. The moment Blaine got back into the car he was asking him. Even if it led to brutal rejection and driving the rest of the way, sobbing, while waving an angry fist at the sky.

Glancing to the side he saw a wallet left on the seat beside him. Oh! Blaine must have forgotten it when running in. He'd nothing to pay with! Grabbing his own wallet Kurt got out of the car and made his way over to the store. Well, this could work. Kurt could stroll in all cool and rich and buy Blaine that gum. Then he could suavely suggest how about he get Blaine a drink? And then buy _two_ Evians. Genius.

Kurt pushed open the door, the bell signaling his custom. He looked towards the cashier smiling in hello. And then froze.

There were two figures at the counter. One was shaking in fear and quickly filling a bag with cash. The other was wearing a pair of tights on his head and holding a gun.

Oh, Christ in a Safari park, he had walked into a robbery. An armed robbery! Where was Blaine?

"I..." Kurt began faltering. "I didn't mean..."

The robber was wearing Blaine's clothes. "Kurt!" The robber had Blaine's voice. 

With a gasp Kurt turned and ran from the store, stumbling as he tried to extract the keys from his pocket. He heard Blaine behind him calling his name and pushed himself to run faster. He flung open the door and threw himself in. Reaching across the seats, he tried to lock the passenger door, but Blaine was too quick.

"Listen, Kurt!" Blaine said, climbing in to the car, ripping the tights from his head and dropping the bag. It was open and overflowing with money. "This isn't what it looks like!"

"Out! Out!" Kurt kicked wildly but Blaine caught his foot, pulling him towards him. "Get off!"

"Damnit, Kurt!" Kurt's eyes widened when a gun presented itself to his shocked face. Blaine lowered the barrel, pointing it at Kurt's chest. "Just drive, okay! Get us out of here."

"No! I'm not going anywhere with you!"

"Did you not see this?" Blaine waved the gun. "This is real." He shot a panicked look back at the station. "Come on, Kurt!" 

"I'll eat my keys!" Kurt held them up. "I will!"

"You'll eat your....? You might want to remove all those fobs? Unless you're going to eat the plastic troll, too?" Blaine snapped. "Right! That's it." He dived into the backseat, hands snatching up the Vivienne Westwood jacket. "Don't make me do it," Blaine said, pushing the pistol into the material. "Drive, Kurt!" 

"Oh, my God! Oh, my God!" He pushed the keys into the ignition. "I'm driving! I'm driving!"

*

A thief. Of all the people he could have picked up, he'd found a thief. A thief with a gun that was trained on him. A thief that was clutching his beloved coat far too tight in his thieving little thief hands.

"So, you've probably guessed who I am by now." Blaine said, matter-of-factly.

Kurt blinked. "No? I _don't_ know you. I can't tell the police anything. I promise. I... Could you watch the seam on that?"

Blaine looked down at the coat as if he had forgotten it was there. "I'm a little worried about your attachment to this, you know."

"I _worked_ for that! As opposed to, you know, stealing it. And it wasn't cheap!" Kurt gave a gasp. "Wait! Please don't steal it!"

 _"I'm not going to steal it!_ Look, I'm sorry. This is how I work. I travel up and down the highway hitching. I rob a few places and then move on before the mark realizes. You weren't the supposed to come into the store, Kurt."

"Oh! Sorry! How rude of me. What was I even thinking, Blaine! Wait? Is that even your real name? Or your criminal mastermind name?"

"The media call me The Dapper Highwayman, actually. But yes. It's Blaine."

"The Dapper Highwayman? Are you serious?"

"Yes, I'd prefer something a bit more machismo, of course but..." Blaine shrugged. "I'm terribly polite to those I rob."

"Well, at least there's that. Good to know that while they were having their hard worked money taken you were saying please and thank you," Kurt snapped. "I cannot _believe_ I was going to ask you out."

"You were?" Blaine grinned with delight. "Really?"

"Shut up. Put your tights back on."

"I knew you were the type that liked bad boys. I could just tell."

"Are you even gay? Or was all the flirting to keep me sweet?" 

"I was flirting with you because you're cute. Really cute. And if you'd asked I'd have said yes."

"Yes, well. That's hardly a worry right now is it, Bandit?"

"Hmm," Blaine murmured. "Look. I honestly have no idea what to do with you. You know my name. You're the only person who knows my face. You know about my... career."

"Oh, my God? Are you going to kill me?"

"I'm a thief not a murderer but... look, it's getting late. And I'm tired. Let's find a quiet spot and talk about it in the morning. Here, take that turn ahead. It leads to a secluded wooded area."

"You're going to bury me in the woods?"

"I already said I'm not going to kill you!"

"You're going to bury me _alive_?"

"What? No! You watch too much TV, Kurt, I just want to sleep so I can think on a fresh head. I promise that I will let you go. Provided you behave."

"Sleep in the car?" Kurt's heart hammered as he took the turning. "All night?" 

"It's nearly midnight and we've been driving for hours. _You_ even longer." 

Kurt didn't answer, his mind racing. He could wait until Blaine was asleep and make a run for it. If he just kept pliant and quiet he could make Blaine drop his guard. 

"Here will do," Blaine said. Satisfied they were now in the most _terrifying_ clearing. Kurt pulled over, eyes scanning the woods for the nearest exit to the road. "Do you need to pee?"

"Pee? Sorry?"

Blaine began to ruffle through his bag. "Before we go to sleep." He pulled out a pair of handcuffs with a pink furry trim. "And before I put these on you."

"Before you put...? No! No! You are not putting them on, get off!" Blaine snatched up Kurt's wrists, binding them together as he looped them through the wheel. Uselessly Kurt pulled on the cuffs, clinking against the metal. "Get these off. Now. I mean it, Blaine. I need to pee! I need to pee!"

Blaine leaned forward and stared into his face. "You're a terrible liar, Kurt. I need to make sure you don't take off in the middle of the night. That's all." He laughed. "If you do need to pee, let me know." He sat back in his chair, and then, good God, draped the Vivienne Westwood over himself. "Night, Kurt."

"I can't go to sleep like this!" Kurt cried, panicked. "It's uncomfortable."

"You can do anything you set your mind to." Blaine whispered, snuggling into the coat. "I have faith."

"So much for dapper," Kurt muttered under his breath. Okay, his plan was bust. He'd have to come up with a new one. In the morning. He cringed at the damage that was happening to his pores. This blew his moisturizing routine. He settled back into his seat and tried to pretend he was at his father's. Nestled in his own bed. Warm. Calm. Safe.

"What was that?" he said sitting up with a start. "Did you hear that? I think it was a bear!"

Blaine sighed. "You know bear sounds intimately, do you? Relax. It can't get in the car."

"But I have a Honey Crunch in the trunk."

"Are you concerned that this bear has a crow bar?"

"We should go get a motel!" Kurt said brightly, seeing another way out. The longer he stalled Blaine the better. "We passed _loads_ on way here."

"We are sleeping in the car, Kurt. Believe it or not, but I'm trying to keep a low profile. Now go to sleep. I'm begging you. Don't make me pistol whip you unconscious."

Kurt glared at him, leaning back. Okay. Sleep. He could sleep.

_Do do do do, dah-dah dah-dah, do do do do._

Oh, Christ. That was the last thing he needed. He squeezed his eyes shut.

_Do do do do, dah-dah dah-dah, do do do do._

He just needed to clear his mind. That’s all.

_Do do do do, dah-dah dah-dah, do do do do._

No. It was no good.

"Blaine?" Kurt hissed. "Are you asleep?" Blaine gave a fake soft snore snore in reply. "Oi!" Kurt kicked out, his foot connecting with shin. "Blaine."

"What? _What?_ " Blaine shifted in his seat, staring at him in agitation. "What do you want?"

"Are you awake?" 

"Am I...? Am I awake? Of course I'm awake!"

"Oh, I'm sorry? Am I _bothering_ you?" Kurt pulled on his handcuffs rattling the chain. "Am I keeping you up?"

Blaine glared at him, his eyes flashing. He blinked slowly and under his breath Kurt could hear the count up to ten. "Okay, okay. What's the matter, Kurt?" he asked, achingly insincere. "How can I possibly help, Kurt?"

"I can't sleep," Kurt said simply.

"Have you tried? Hmm? Did you even close your eyes?"

"Yes, of course," Kurt hissed. "But being kidnapped and handcuffed to a wheel in the middle of nowhere isn't how I usually lull myself to slumber. Plus..."

"Plus what?"

"I have Roxette in my head."

"I'm... sorry? You have Roxette in your head?"

"Sleeping in my car? _Do do do do, dah-dah dah-dah, do do do do. Sleeping in my car, I will caress you._ That one? It's like a screensaver. It's driving me mad. I can't sleep."

Blaine opened his mouth and closed it again with a snap. He pressed an index finger to his temple, rubbing in a small circle. "I'm going to go to sleep now. And if you speak again, I am going to tie you to the roof until morning. Do you understand?"

"You put it _in_ there!"

"Do you understand?"

Kurt didn't reply, lest he end up roofed. He gave a sharp nod and shot Blaine what he hoped was the dirtiest look he had ever received. 

Fine. Close his eyes. He could do that. Forget he was forcibly attached to a steering wheel. He could do that, too. Forget he'd been kidnapped by a gorgeous designer clothes abusing lunatic. There. Done. Sleep. Sleep. After awhile, to his surprise, Kurt actually _could_ feel himself drifting off. He felt heavy and pulled down, his muscles tired and glad of the rest. He let his brain switch off and began to lightly doze.

"That's it!" Blaine suddenly exclaimed. "I give up!"

Kurt jumped and stared at him blearily. "What? What's it?"

 _"You!_ " Blaine complained. "I can't sleep!"

"I didn't _do_ anything!"

"We're getting a motel. I'm uncuffing you, and then we are driving to the nearest motel. And if you think of one catchy song, _any song_ , that is to do with motels, keep it to yourself or I _swear_ I will get a knife and fork and eat your ridiculous coat in front of you."

*

"Here?" Kurt asked. "Are you serious?” Kurt looked around the foyer, his nose wrinkled in distaste. “I just saw a cockroach checking out."

"Will you be quiet? The receptionist is _right there_ ," Blaine hissed. He had Kurt tight by the elbow. "Don't try anything, okay," he whispered before approaching the counter. "Hello!” he said brightly. “Do you have a twin room available, please?" 

"Twin? Really?" The man barely glanced at them, his eyes glued to the television on his desk. "Got a double, if ya wanting it?"

Blaine shook his head. "Twin is fine, thanks."

The man sighed and shot them an unimpressed look. "Listen, Curly Sue. This ain’t no Hilton. Take the trick upstairs. Get it out of ya system and then send ya girl a goodnight text."

"I... I'm sorry?" Blaine stammered, his fingers tightening against Kurt's arm. By accident or in warning, he didn't know. 

"I got a double. You want it or what?" 

"Fine, fine." Blaine grumbled, shoving the cash on the table. "We'll take it!"

The man gave a gap toothed grin, shoving the keys across the desk. "Enjoy, boys." Kurt gave a shocked little gasp, a blush spreading across his face. 

“Did he call me a trick? Isn’t that a hooker? Do I look like a hooker?” Kurt asked as Blaine led him to the room. 

“I thought I said you were banned from talking.” Blaine unlocked the door and pulled Kurt through the doorway. “You’re talking.”

“Oh, this is a _lovely_ room. The bloodstains in the carpet really bring out the cobwebs on the ceiling. Hey! What are you doing," Kurt asked as Blaine took him by the wrists and led him to the bed.

"I'm cuffing you to the headboard." At Kurt's expression he had the good grace to blush. "Not for nefarious purposes." He pushed Kurt down by the shoulders and took him by the left hand. "Stop squirming!" 

"This is ridiculous. Just take the car and leave me here, Blaine." Kurt tried to keep the panic out of his voice. "You don't need to do this." He winced at click of the clasp. _"Please."_

"Will you calm down? I'm not going to _eat_ you! I'm going to have a shower and then go to sleep. You can have the bed. I'll sleep on the floor." He crossed the room, ignoring Kurt's frantic tugging on the handcuffed hand. "I'll even put the TV on. Here," he picked up the remote. "We have a choice of... Er, two channels. An action movie! That's fun, right?"

"You can't leave this on! It has Mark Wahlberg in it!'

"So? Wahlberg's cute?"

"It's his _voice_. He says everything like he is explaining something patiently to a six year old."

"I... What?"

"I'm not watching something with him in, unless he is shirtless and mute. You can't cuff me to a bed and force me to watch this. Look! He just fired, like, a million bullets with one gun. This is torture."

"Oh, my God! Fine!" Blaine clicked at the remote. "There! A Vincent Price movie. Do you have any problems with _his_ voice?"

"Er..."

"I don't care! I'm showering." Blaine flicked the television off and threw the remote to the floor. He stamped off to the bathroom without looking back muttering all the while about investing in ball gags.

Kurt sat for a moment blinking slowly. How had he got into this? Oh, that's right. He had tried to do a good deed. Of course. Dimly, he heard the shower blast into life. Blaine couldn't take him all over the country, cuffing him to every shiny thing he could find. He had to let him go soon. Didn't he? Did Kurt really want to find out the hard way? 

He examined the bracelet tied round his left wrist and gave another tug on the chain. Well, unless he hulked out he was stuck here. Standing up he gave the frame a shake. It seemed firm enough. He leant backwards, and pulled with all his strength.

The bed gave a slight jolt.

Yes!

He could move the bed! Okay, maybe not out of the actual motel, but if he could get to the door he could maybe get someone’s attention or even use that phone on the wall.

Wait! Phone on the wall!

If he could just drag this eyesore over there he could call the police! He could call his Dad!

Kurt could do this, he could! He began to pull, trying to ignore the pain in his hands. This was too important. Blaine could be out any minute. He gave a tiny cheer as the bed moved again, seeming to grow lighter now it knew he was serious. He continued to tug.

Closer.

Closer.

So close.

If he could just get a little bit further he could almost reach!

"What the hell are you doing?" Blaine asked from behind him. “Are you seriously trying to escape with a bed?”

Kurt cursed himself for not hearing the shower switch off. He gave a desperate pull on the headboard and made a dive for the phone with his fingers. Blaine was on him almost instantly, grabbing at his free hand. Kurt went wild, kicking and struggling as Blaine tried to calm him down.

"You're going to dislocate your… oomph!" Blaine fell backward onto the bed, as Kurt's knee came up into his stomach. Kurt went for the phone again but Blaine caught him by the wrist, bringing Kurt down on top of him. Kurt tried to push himself off but Blaine was so damn slippery and wet and... naked.

"You knocked the towel off," Blaine explained breathlessly as Kurt froze and stared down at him in shock. "When you were fighting me."

Kurt's mouth went dry as he stared down into the other boy's deep brown eyes, his hip pressing into Blaine's groin. He shifted and Blaine gave out a soft moan. 

"You need... You need to get off me. Please." Blaine's hand loosened on his wrist. "Now, Kurt, before this gets embarrassing."

Kurt's brain couldn't seem to process further than _"Blaine is nude, Blaine is nude."_ He could feel firm muscles pressed up against his chest, thighs tensing under his, a mouth so close to his.

And then someone began to kiss Blaine, and Kurt was pretty sure it was him.

"No, don't," Blaine said into his mouth, even as his hand snaked around Kurt's waist. Pushing him against his hardness. "Is this a trick? To get me to uncuff you?"

"You don't have to uncuff me," Kurt muttered, kissing along Blaine's neck. At this Blaine gave an even louder groan and brought his hands to Kurt’s chest, beginning to unfasten the buttons and fanning the shirt open as he did.

This was insane. Ridiculous. He couldn’t do this with his _kidnapper!_ He wasn’t Patty Hearst, for goodness sake. But Blaine was thrusting up into him and Kurt was finding it extremely hard to breathe.

Blaine’s hands were at his jeans now, slipping in and rubbing against his hardening cock. _I_ am _Patty Hearst! I am! I am_ he thought inanely as pleasure rushed throughout his body.

“I need to get you out of those,” Blaine muttered. “I need to know you’re here because you want to be.” He slipped out from under Kurt and went to get the key. Kurt felt himself bucking into the mattress and reddened in embarrassment. God, he was shameless. Blaine practically bounded back and leapt onto the bed. Fingers shaking he unlocked the cuff and sat back, legs curled under him. “You’re free, Kurt. If you want to go. Go. I won’t stop you. I promise.”

Kurt rubbed at his wrist, staring at Blaine. He tried to think of something to say but actions spoke louder than words after all. He crawled across the bed slowly and kissed Blaine’s bare chest, kissed across his collarbone and to his ear. He pulled away and stared into his face. Blaine smiled slowly and cupped a hand to the back of Kurt’s head, fingers entangling in his hair. He brought his lips to Kurt’s and kissed him slowly and deeply, teeth nipping at his bottom lip.

“You’re overdressed, Kurt,” Blaine said. “Let’s remedy that.” 

Quickly Blaine helped Kurt out his clothes, nearly falling from the bed in their haste. It wasn’t an elegant affair but they got it done, Blaine rolling a laughing Kurt onto his back. 

“Hello,” Blaine said, fingers trailing along his bottom lip. Kurt’s tongue slipped out and licked at the pads.

“The Dapper Highwayman, I presume?” Kurt said, his hands roaming across Blaine’s back, cupping his ass and pushing their groins together. “I see you’re standing. Are you ready to deliver?”

“These puns really _shouldn’t_ be sexy. It must be the way you’re saying them.” Blaine trailed a hand gently down Kurt’s body, grazing his nipple. Kurt arched up into the touch, biting at his bottom lip. Pleased with the reaction Blaine replaced his fingers with his tongue. Working over the nub he brought his hands down lower and gripped at Kurt’s cock, spreading the pre-come from the tip around his palm. He began to jerk roughly and Kurt threw an arm round his neck, moaning and bucking up into his hand. Kurt brought his own palm to his mouth, licking it long and luxuriously as Blaine watched with blown pupils. Grinning Kurt pushed the hand between their bodies and clutched Blaine, flicking his wrist in time with Blaine’s ministrations of his own cock.

For awhile the only sounds in the room where the soft sounds of skin against skin, and the strained sighing of each boy. Then Blaine gave an almost pained scream and buried his face in the crook of Kurt’s neck, biting with his teeth as his body shuddered out his release. Kurt soon followed, throwing back his head as stars clouded his vision. “Oh, my God,” he groaned as he came. “That was… I mean. Oh, my God!”

“I know,” Blaine said muffled, his face still buried in Kurt’s shoulder. He moved off the top of Kurt and smiled over at him. “Seconded.”

Panting, Kurt curled up against Blaine, resting his head on his chest, listening to Blaine’s heartbeats coming down. “Well, this beats flying.”

Blaine laughed and stroked his hand down Kurt’s spine. “I imagine it would.”

“What happens in the morning, Blaine?” Kurt looked up into his face. “What are we going to do?”

“I guess… we could carry on? To Lima?” 

“And would you be robbing gas stations all the way there?”

“Are you asking me to go straight? So to speak.”

“It’s a thought.” Kurt admitted. “You could just stop. Before you get caught?”

“No, I couldn’t, Kurt. Not just like that. Not even after one night with you. Don’t look like that! You know what I mean. I’ve been doing this for so long. I can’t stop now.”

“But…”

“Shh, Kurt. Okay. How about this. How about I sleep on it? See what the morning brings?”

Kurt felt he was being fobbed off but he nodded, snuggling into the other boy.

“Not yet though.” Blaine said, pushing Kurt off and grinning filthily. “Now I think it’s _your_ turn to put those cuffs on me.”

*

Kurt woke to sunlight streaming in through the window. He moaned and rolled over, touching at the space beside him. It was cold. Blaine had been gone sometime.

He wrapped the sheets round himself, sitting up and curling his legs under him. His keys were beside him on the floor. His plastic troll giving him a smug smile. "Shut up," he muttered. At least Blaine had left him the rental car. He noticed that beneath the keys there was a piece of paper. Leaning over he snatched it up, crawling back onto the bed to read it.

_Dear Kurt,_

_Sorry about just running out on you like this, but I need to keep moving. And I don’t want to drag you into any more trouble than I already have. Last night was… there are no words for last night. Thank you._

_Regards,  
The Dapper Highwayman_

_p.s It must have been love. But it’s over now._

_p.p.s Actually scratch that. Nothing is ever really over. Plus, I stole your address from your wallet._

Kurt laughed and flopped back down onto the bed, pressing the piece of paper to his chest. 

Maybe this trip hadn’t been such an error in judgment after all.

****

The End.


End file.
